


Can't Get Enough And Can't Get Away

by Sleepless_Writer247



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, Forced Marriage, M/M, Master/Slave, Personal Servant, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Writer247/pseuds/Sleepless_Writer247
Summary: Everyone knows that Thomas Jefferson is all in for slavery. He hadn't hidden and he hadn't an amount of shame. Planting was what he needed to make a profit and if he got it, he didn't care about what people say behind his back or right in his face. But a tempting immigrant and a growing longing might just change that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slavery was and still is a very dark and twisted part of history. When characters- i.e. slave owners at the time and portrayed in this story- name, mistreat, and punish certain persons it is only because of the mind set of the time. 
> 
> Even if this is a romantic story in a setting of slavery, it will never be ok. 
> 
> I have written/writing this fully knowing that this can be very offensive to people but I ask you see this is a romantic work of fiction (even if Slavery wasn't) since we all know Thomas Jefferson never had any fond connections with Alexander Hamilton or that Alexander Hamilton was ever a slave.
> 
> I ask you take this into consideration before leaving any comments or saying anything on other social media platforms. If I have added or written something that is/doesn't go along with this work notice, I ask you inform me. I never want to offend someone because of wanting to write a silly fanfic. 
> 
> With all this in mind, enjoy the following.

Everyone knows that Thomas Jefferson is all in for slavery. He hadn't hidden himself, he had no shame. Planting was what he needed to make profit and if he got it he didn't care about what people say behind his back or right in his face. Even as this was being taken down he was going down to the fair. One that many would love for the enjoyment but despise for the closing event. The Selling event. Thomas walked around with James Madison to his side, as per usual he had a runny nose and terrible coughing. Some of the servers waited in the front while others went to get some in take on what could be use full hand work. If they got what they needed they wouldn't need to come back to this mistakable place again.

"At least some of the work got done," He handed the leather packet to Thomas. "Though some have already seen who has gone or been taken-

They both looked up when they heard a shout of anger and crying. This was usual noise but still who could ignore it? The first to be taken on the stage was a tall dark man. Though he had no muscle he could still be use full. The seller, Thomas knew this man since they had done many trades together, Mr. Reynolds, called out the cons before the pros. Thomas gave a frown before waving his hand slightly, he knew he wouldn't be useful. He turned back to Madison as they discussed what they needed to get everything ready by that Friday. Having need many things done by then. The second to come on the stage was a family, Thomas couldn't tell the race but he could tell the husband was the only useful one there. Maybe the son too. Maybe.

“Bid,” Thomas said loud enough for him to hear. He began saying prices before Thomas spoke again at $650. One of his servers went to the front and took the man, parting the family. Jefferson ignored the pleas. Madison told him about the woman they were short on and he got the mother, baby and boy. “Turning soft Madison,” He commented to him as the fair continued. “Sue me,” He said back softly before taking his cloth out and began to cough violently. 'He needs Jesus' Thomas thought patting him on the back. 

 

By the end of it Thomas got the extra slaves that he needed and was getting what he needed before leaving the stand. Mr. Reynolds was about to close it before his partner nudged him and motioned towards the back.

“Wait a minute folks,” His partner went to behind the stand, the fabric was being pushed against hard. “We have one more man to offer,” He seemed to be a bit nervous as if the man scared him. A slave scaring him, Thomas scoffed at the thought. He made Madison stop from walking away from the stand.  

The slave was forced to his knees but that didn’t stop him from struggling. Thomas smiled in amusement, many had tried to struggle but none had shouted for him ‘to rot in hell’ quote unquote. Some of the patrons had left, having seen no interest in the short immigrant. Madison looked at him saying a small “Hm,” Thomas glanced at him for a moment. Then back at the man.

“Doesn’t seem to have any muscle,” The man’s bare chest showed none.

“We could still put him to work, maybe he is exceptional at other things,” Thomas replied. James just nodded, making Jefferson decide the decision.

“How much?” Thomas asked going to the front. Madison trailed after. The slave was forced to stand. Compared to Thomas and James he was short.

Mr. Reynolds replied with a cheeky smile, “You won’t like it Thomas,”

“How much,” He repeated more as a statement then a question.

“960 dollars,” Madison stood back in shock, Thomas gave him a one over before turning back to James.

“You can’t be serious James,”

“Take it or lose it Mr. Jefferson,” The immigrant struggled again, hair falling to the front of his face, hiding him. Madison gave him a look, ‘you-are-not-making-this-deal’ type of look.

“that much for a small man?”

“Deal ends in 3,”

“Jefferson,” Madison warned. “Don’t,”

“2,”

The immigrant now looks at him, Thomas looked back still not seeing his face fully.

“1-,”

“Hand him over,” Jefferson said a bit louder then needed.Reynolds smirked and his partner handed him over to the servers. Thomas snapped his fingers so the slave was taken over to him first.

“I’ll expect the payment before Saturday Mr. Jefferson,” Reynolds stated before closing the fair fully. As they parted Reynolds gave Jefferson a look before saying. “Majesty over there,” referring to the slave, “Demands to be call Alexander,” Thomas snickered, patting him on the back as they usually did.  

Jefferson’s server stood behind the man, fear coming off of him. Thomas had let Madison leave, knowing all he would do is complain about it. He went up to this ‘Alexander’ and forced him to look at him.

“Hands off me pig,” He spat, hands moving frantically to undo the tie that held him. Thomas offered a laugh looking at his servent.

“Can you believe this?,” He asked as the cane he held hit the ground in annoyance that filled a moment later. “I don’t care what freedoms you had in whichever place you where before darlin’ but you serve under me. I own you. Got it?” Alexander growled before spitting in his face, the servant stared in amazement at his courage. Or was it stupidity?

Jefferson smiled, wiping it off himself. Chuckling he looked at Alexander again. Who was this little immigrant man? "This is going to be fun," He said to Alexander as he rested a hand under his chin, making him look straight at him. Alexander just stared back in anger, cursing himself from every boarding that ship in thought of a new place of pure history to make. “A lot of fun.”

                         

* * *

 

Alexander sat with the other slaves. All of them stayed quiet, none saying a word to each other. Every single one, except the baby that the mother held, had chains or ropes around their ankles and arms. Some wrapped around their necks, seeing that if they struggled it would only choke themselves. Alexander had this type on. All he could do was sit still. He was tired, hungry, and hopeless. He heard of what happened to the people that tried to escape. To try and break free of the places they were forced to be. He laid down on the rocking wooden floor. Seeing the sunlight still shine from the cracks between the wood. He curled himself into a ball, falling to sleep as the mother whisper to her young one that it was going to be alright.

 

* * *

 

 

As the sun went to the south, signaling it was almost night. They had gotten back to the home that Thomas had lived near the planting farm. James had already left to him a tad later that evening. Thomas spent the day in his office, writing letters and setting what he needed for the banquet. He should make his trustees do this but he couldn’t let others know about this.

As he sighed in exhaustion he left the papers and went to his bedroom. Changing into his night clothes he laid in his bed, falling asleep slowly. He pulled the covers closer as he heard a knocking at his door. It continued until he shouted out. “What?!”

One of the outside workers came in, out of breath. “Sir,” He heaved out, bowing. Jefferson sat up, standing. “You better have an excuse for this,”

“One of the-,” His hands leaned on his knees, there was a lot of stairs. “New workers started up a riot,” Thomas stared at him, eyes scrunched up in disbelief. That disbelief turned into anger as he heard shouting from outside. He went to the window in his bedroom. Staring out, he saw the land keepers holding torches. They tried to hold back the slaves that tried to escape.

“Get more guards out,” Jefferson spat out to him. “And get me my guns,” The servant nodded and left. A maid came in a minute later holding out a wooden box. He changed quickly and held them. Each taking up either hand. “Thank you Sugar,” He said before leaving the room.

As he left the house, the shouting got louder. Some of fear, some of excitement. He stood in front of where it was happen. Slaves made way for him as they saw him come. He then stood in the middle, sighing in annoyance he held both guns up. They gasped around him, some stopping and dropping to a knee. He shot both of them into the sky. Then lowered it so they shot out to the side of him. The bullets hit no one, he made sure of that. Everybody stopped moving. Standing still. The guards got them all in a straight line. Thomas stood staying quiet, eyes scanning over all of them. He handed one of the guns to the guards to take, he held the other in his good hand.

When everyone was counted Thomas cleared his throat and everyone looked at him standing straighter. He played with the trigger, getting all of them nervous. “Would someone like to explain?” He asked walking in front of them all. “Explain why I was woken? Why I had to waste my time to come out here and find everyone like this?!,” His anger showed more. No one spoke. No one answered. “That’s nice, lovely really,”

He went up to a random person. He held the pistol to under their jaw. He felt her shake against it. “Who did it?” He asked softly. She began to tear up, begging him in whispers not to shoot. “Who did this?!” He asked louder, the man standing next to the woman took her hand in his, trying to calm him. Thomas glanced at the movement. The man looked straight forward, blanked face.

“Alexander,” She said finally as Jefferson pushed the head of it closer. Making it move her head upward. As his finger took its place on the trigger, the man beside him faced the floor. Their hands shook together, both scared for what was going to happen. Jefferson pushed it back, the bang ranged loud. The husband broke down, sobbing. The woman opened her eyes after a moment, she looked at Jefferson. Heart beating fast before turning to her husband as they held each other. He made sure the chamber was empty before shooting it. He owned slaves but he wasn’t heartless. “Bring me Alexander,” Thomas said. Two of them left to go and find the immigrant while the others made sure no one tried to leave. When Alexander was brought to Thomas, the rest were sent to the cramped builds they were forced to sleep in.

He was brought to Jefferson, the ropes were put back into place. Thomas ordered for the guards to leave, it only being the two at the opening. Hamilton didn’t dare look at him, he stood slumped as he fidget with the ropes on his arms. He fucked up. Jefferson held the gun in one hand before placing one in his hair. Alex felt confused for a moment, heart beating fast. Thomas grabbed a handful of it and pulled him so he stood closer.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Alexander stayed quiet, not saying anything. He _was_ trying to start a rebellion, the people joined him the minute he said just a few words. When he got no answer, he slapped him hard against his cheek. It was hard enough for him to hiss out in pain. “I forget why I even had the thought of buying you,” Jefferson let go of his hair and Alexander stumbled to his knees.

“Tomorrow. Before the sun rises, I want you in the barn.” He smirked before placing the gun in the hunger on his belt. “You can muck the cow’s shit” Alexander looked back up at him, anger now in his eyes.

“Or would you rather had been wiped till you can’t walk then put to work? I can have that arranged immediately if you wish,”

Hamilton rose slowly. “Go to hell Thomas Jefferson,” He spat out. He just sighed, feeling more tired than before.

“Wiped it is then,” He walked off, motioning for the guards to take him away. As he was dragged away Alex shouted out for Jefferson to make them stop. Thomas just continued back to the home. As he entered the home the maid from before handed him a glass of wine. He took it and went to the dining room, chugging it. Not taking his time. She stood by him to refill it. Holding it out she did over and over again. By the four he had calmed his nerves and he looked over at her.

“Was I too hard Betty?”

She looked at him directly, answering in a calm voice. “My opinion is not valid,”

“Just say it,”

“...Yes. He is still new. He doesn’t know how things around here are.”

It was true. Alexander didn’t know the consequences, when it was either he had gone to far or just far enough. Now he was going to be punished for something that maybe he did deserve. He knew he was crazy for thinking that maybe he did deserve it. Who would think it was right?

Jefferson looked at the glass before setting it on the table. As he left the dining room he called out to her. “Tell the men to let Alexander go, he must report to my office in the morning though,”

“Alright sir,” She left quickly, knowing if she didn’t hurry they would start.

Thomas went back to his bedroom. He placed the gun on the counter next to him. He fell to sleep quickly, covering himself completely. He only had a few seconds to think of what the next day would bring for the both of them before sleep consumed him.

 

This was just going to be the beginning of the two.


	2. Chapter 2

When Thomas woke the next morning, he turned to his side to find the pistol from last night facing him. His heart sped as he moved away from it, his silk blanket covered him slightly as he looked to see who it was. The gun then moved to the man’s side and there stood James Madison with a sly smirk on his face. Jefferson frowned, calming down. 

“Morning Jefferson,” He said, “You really need to learn to put these types of things away or something could happen,”

“Oh, I make something happen alright,” Thomas muttered as James laughed at his reaction. “And up yours is where it’s gonna be!” He called out to him as he went to go change into new clothes for that day, Madison just continued to laugh as he waited outside. 

“Gossip travels fast,” Madison reminded him as he came out fully dressed, he placed it back in the fine wooden box from before. 

Thomas fixed the cuffs that always seem to never stay right on the first try. “Yes? Is there something you are dying to tell me?”

“Did one of the new ones try to really start a rebellion?” He asked turning to face him, letting one of the clothing maids take the box with them. 

Thomas sighed loudly, “Yes,” He tells “And he had the guts to curse  me to hell right after I wasn’t going to let him get whipped,”

“You didn’t?” Madison asked shocked.

“Why does everyone think I’m so heartless,” Jefferson mumbled back as he left his room to go to his office. James follows after, not knowing how he was going to continue this.  He didn’t tell him how he actually did but with such small words from one of the maids stopped him. Yes, he was close to Madison, they did many things together for many years but anyone could be eavesdropping and he couldn't let his guard slip. Not this early in the morning. “Well, don’t let anyone know of this part of what happened. Give the animals something else to gossip about or else they’ll start talking,”

Madison just nodded, understanding what was their stance in this war. Well, the petty war to keep slaves legal. He decided to change the topic if he wanted not to anger Jefferson anymore then he already was. “Has the chartering been up to policy?”

“The fresh of the freshest, James,” Thomas answered, putting on a cheeky grin. “And- don’t get me started on the decor. We are topping it this year and if Washington isn’t impressed then smack me retarded!” Madison rolled his eyes at the remark and went through the papers which told of the party and everything needed to keep it to its top marks. The two continued to talk about the party planning till there was a knock at the door and Thomas looked up seeing who it was as he stopped talking; Madison continued to talk until he took note of who stood in front of the two. 

‘There it is,’ Thomas thought, his causal smirk turning into a disappointed frown. He sat up in his chair and motioned for Madison to do the same, even though he had no back support from sitting on top of the desk. Jefferson motioned for him to come close. The chains clanged against each other as he moved. His stance is what ticked Jefferson off. Along with many other things but this is what made him maddest.

There was silence. Tension filling the air, almost suffocating.

“Does it bring you a sense of pride?” Alexander, who had looked as if he stood with a haze in his eyes finally snapped to attention.

“What?-” The immigrant looked at him confused. 

He sighed. Frustration filling him before he could repeat. “The event from the night before,” He began again, tone sharp. “Does it give you a sense of pride?-Pleasure to see what could have happened? Hm?”

He stood unsure of how to answer. Woken up that morning to just be dragged in here. To be talked down to, no way he was about to let this happen to him. No way was he about to stand down from this pathetic man. 

“I might as well be talking to an ass,” Thomas scoffed looking over at Madison. 

“It does,” Alex finally says after hearing his utterly unless insult. A sly smile growing on his face. “Seeing it happen. Seeing how much they wanted to just destroy the plantation. To leave this God forsaken place.”

“Big words for someone in your position,” Madison says, eyes narrowed looking over at him. “Word of advice: Shut it.” He states. 

"Words of advice," He mocks. "When I ask for advice from you, it'll be the day I crumble,"

“Watch it, pet. Don’t forget who’s in charge here. Don’t you dare think for a  _ second  _ you run this place.” Thomas stood from his desk. The chair behind him dragging on the floor. He went to the base and now stood in front of Alexander. He easily towered over the shorter man. Madison cringes lightly from the anger fuming off of him, Hamilton didn’t back down for a moment. 

“What if I do?” He shot back. “What will you do then? Punish me?” He says, last words mocking again. “Didn’t work so well last night; Got about two petty hits before one of the ladies came to stop it.”

“You know what Madison,” Thomas says looking over at him. “I feel as if I haven’t been hard enough ya know?-” He steps forward and grabs a fist full of Alexander’s hair, yanking on it as he walked over to James. “Like I was too soft before...hmm, a public beating doesn’t seem to bad right now,”

Alex froze at those words. He began hitting against Jefferson’s side. “NO-YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”

Madison nodded. “I’ll round them up. Let them get the reminder of what happens if you try to disobey,”

“Ah! Perfect!” Jefferson began walking out of the office room, dragging Alex by his hair and Madison leaving to get the slaves together and the guards ready.

Alex followed against his own will, feet dragging under him as he tried to keep up. He continued to fight against him, voice booming around the house. 

Maids began taking notice of it. Some hiding behind a few things to watch and others fully just standing in their place. 

Betty had held the front door open for the two. Thomas looked over at her. Betty’s eyes were glued to the ground, saddened and face twisted with anger. He continued to look forward, he didn’t need her agreement in this. She may have helped him but that didn’t mean she would always have a hand over him.

When they got outside Madison had done his part, getting the guards at the beating pole and the slaves made a circle around it. They moved out of Jefferson’s way, Alex still thrashing behind him.

“LET GO OF ME!” Jefferson grips his hair tightly once more before throwing him to the ground; shoulder hitting first before the rest of him did. Alexander tried to stand up, head throbbing, his feet stumbling, but the guards got him by both arms before he could get on his feet. Stripping him of his worn grime covered shirt, one held a similar dirty rope. Forcing Alex against the aging wooden pole; They forced his arms around it and hands forced together as well. Tying his wrist together so tight that Hamilton’s fingertips begin to turn red, they back away and Alex began to struggle to undo it and get away.  

Jefferson stood away, arms crossed with James next to him. The slaves stood near them but never close as the two were together. With the flogger in hand, the guard looked over at Jefferson. “What is the count?” He asks.

Thomas didn’t hesitate. “42; Madison counting,” James sighed, annoyed that he would have to but when the first hit was placed he counted..and counted and counted and counted. The hits becoming more harder and agonizing. Hamilton’s face scrunched up together, teeth gritting against each other as his fingernails dug into the wood. He wanted it to end, he wanted to scream out for it to stop…But Alexander Hamilton didn’t say a word. He didn’t say anything when his back began to bleed when he began to feel light-headed when the guard would curse him under his breath when James Madison finally got to “42,”

“Everyone get back to the fields,” Thomas orders with a sigh as he let his arms go back to his sides. The guards undo the ropes and Alexander collapses to the terrain again, some slaves go over to him. Ones sitting him up lightly as the others checked him, each shaken up badly from this event. The two head back inside the home, Madison going back to what he talked about before. More details of the party and Jefferson stayed quiet, just listen to what he said.

Before they could walk in, Thomas looked back once more. Nobody stood by the pole anymore. He couldn’t spot anyone, no slave or guard.

“It’s going to get dark soon Master Jefferson,” He turns to look inside, finding Betty standing with her hands together, fingers entwined. Her faded laughing lines showed as she gave a small tender smile. “Please come inside to get some warmth.” 

  
  


He didn’t deserve it.


	3. Chapter 3

"Master Thomas." Betty shakes him, firm callous hand gripping lightly on his shoulder. "It's time to wake, Sir. Your bath is already made." Jefferson woke, looking up at her with tired eyes. Everything from the night before smacked him hard and he gave her an uneasy look. 'If only that immigrant kept his fucking mouth shut' He thinks getting up. Stripping out of his clothes, he puts a robe on as he heads for the bathing room. He finds the maids already pouring steaming water into the elegant pearl white tub. Soaps and clean showering rags laid out near it. The rest of the maids leave except Betty. 

Letting the robe drop, he stepped inside and rested his back against the tub. His body slowly getting use to the hot water as he lets everything but his head drip into the water. Betty grabs a bucket with the same water and a soap and rag. Dipping the rag into the water, she also gets the soap wet and rubs it against the rag. When most of it had the scent and soapiness of it, she let Jefferson sit up before cleaning his back. Making the pattern of rubbing roughly into his skin, leaving it red when she moved into another spot. "Is this my punishment for letting the bastard get whipped?" He asks, turning his head to the side to look at her. She doesn't reply, only scrubbing harder and faster. By the time she got to his chest, his back burned. Jefferson didn't say anything back as her eyes became watery, guilt set into him and he could only looked down. 

She cleaned his arms, wiping softly at his hands. Her smaller hands a difference from his larger ones. She hums a lullaby Thomas could only remember as the one she did in the nights he couldn't sleep. He looks away, anywhere but her. "Alexander left marks."She says lifting his arm up to him. Hamilton's nail marks where still on his skin, not as red from the moment they happened but still visible. Some of the nail marks almost ripped away on his skin, Jefferson didn't even realize he had them till now. " _Formes de beauté._ The healing cream can help with them." She looks at him. "Would you like me to go get it, Master Jefferson?"

He shakes his head. "No. They can heal by themselves." He said it more for her sake then his. Knowing she would be less harsher on him if he let himself see the torture he let happen. 

"As you wish." She continues to clean him. Letting him take over when it got to his thighs and lower stomach. As he cleans himself, she gets a small cup of apple cider Vinegar. When he finishes she takes the rag and places it in the bucket. Letting Thomas lower his head, she pours it into his hair. Setting the cup down, she begins scrubbing it into his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp to get it deep in the roots of his hair. "Master James visited this morning. He wishes to know if General Washington has accepted the invitation to the Ball."

Thomas tries to nod but gave up a moment after. "I will write back on that, thank you." She grabs another warmish water bucket and pours it over his head. Chills run over him as she does. He dips his head to rid of the rest of it. She grabs two other cups, both much larger this time. The scent of Rosemary and black tea fills Jefferson's senses as she pours them into his hair. This was the usual arrangement he did to keep himself smelling fresh and his frizzy hair shiny and soft. Scrubbing lighter this time, she begins to hum again and Jefferson finally let's himself relax against the tub again. "Must have you been so hard on him Master Thomas?" She finally says, fingers couriering his locks. She waits for his response. 

"Yes Betty. But, you know this already." He closes his eyes, water splashing as she poured more over his hair. She continues to scrub, harder as he talked. "It should have watch his mouth. Not one of the others have created much of a scene of it but nonetheless it had to happen. Given them a reminder and him one too of stepping out of line again-Ow! Stop it Betty."

"He reminds me much of Johnny." She says softly lighting her grip slightly for a moment before continuing. Thomas sighs loudly but doesn't stop her. 

"Your husband...why is that?" Thomas looked to the side to see her but she only moved him to face forward. 

She chuckles lightly. "You must remember what he was like. Use to get you mad exactly like that. Disrespect Master James like that too. But he did always make it up to you in the end. Got the workers to pick more or by making a month's supply of apple juice. It always did make you sleep better, Master Thomas." Betty poured the rest of the water on him and stepped away to go get his towel. "Sadly he had to leave. Which someone could have stopped." Jefferson winced at her pained words. She went back and grabbed his wet hair, rinsing out what she could before rubbing the towel against his hair. Jefferson stands and does the rest. 

Betty leaves him to finish changing and headed for the dining area to ready his breakfast. Thomas grabs his usual outfit, everything except the Magenta overcoat and his usual cane. Drying off his hair once more, he heads for the lower level. Finding his breakfast ready on the table, he takes his seat at the head. Beginning to start his breakfast, one of the maids came over with a silver tray. On it was various envelopes and a letter opener. She holds it out for him and stays silent. Thomas sets his fork down and waves her off. One of the many things he despises about this whole system was their hesitance but really what could he do or really what could he _care_ to do. 

Taking a more bite, he sits up and flips through the letters. One that craved his interest when reading the name got him to open it first. Grabbing the letter opener he cuts hit open and pulls it out; setting down the now empty envelope down.  

 _December 11, 1771_  

_Dearest Thomas,_

_I must stop writing these. You know I would go on and on, filling many papers of how I yearn to see you again my love. Now, I know we talked of it before and we couldn't decide where. I will agree with your judgement, we will have the wedding in the prairie. Just as yours parents had. And their's before theirs._

_Please dearest understand I will be back in a few days time. The arrangements not full yet and most of the time my sister wishes to bicker of what should be what. Know and always remember I miss you with each passing night and day and wish to be with you in each of those passing times._

_Love,_

_Martha Wayles_

_soon to be Martha Skelton_ Jefferson

 

He swallows. This wasn't recent. Is was when Martha was alive. When  _his_ Martha was alive. "Who sent this?" His words sharp, quiet and full of pain. 

"I-um," The maid steps closer to him. "Pardon?"

"Who sent it!?" He rose of of his chair, looking over at her. Hand that griped the letter shaking with anger. 

"The Messenger said it was from a Mister James Reynolds, Master." She bows her head, hands at her side shaking with fear. "I-ah," She doesn't know what else to say. To stop the stare that he gave. Betty went over to him, letting the maid go. 

"Thomas dearest, please calm yourself." She whispers to him. That word _. Dearest._ God-what he would do to hear Martha say it once more. She lays a comforting hand on back, rubbing it soothingly. "Mustn't let what happened last time happen again."

He swallows and nods. Looking down at the letter once again. Seeing her fine hand writing, her carefully chosen words for him. "I miss her, Betty." Was the only thing he said before leaving for his office. "Very much." The words to only himself this time.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the Betty in this story is not related to the real life Sally Hemings.
> 
> Very sorry for the short chapter! Longer one will be posted soon I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Betty visits him later when she knew the angered grief was gone. Though the news she had wouldn't better the Master.

"Thomas," She knocks on the door, coming in when he looks up. "Something had happened in the courtyard." He sighs and gets up. Having her lead by his side.

"And what has happened exactly?"

"It's with...Alexander,"

He scoffs. "Immigrant hasn't learned yet. Fanfuckingtastic, my dear."

"In your eyes, no, he hasn't." They continued walking till they made it outdoor. The guards had Alexander isolated from the rest, resting him in the garden's flower areas. He looked so small associated with everything else. He looked over every flower as if he knew all the names. Thomas and Betty stopped in front of him.

"What'd you do?" He asks casually as if he was asking a silly child. Alexander looks away, back burning, he plays with a red rose that was at full bloom. He shrugs. Alex was just resting when they found him.

"We found this in his cot." The guard hands him two books that would be too advance for any commoner and especially for a slave.

Alex cut in. "It's not a cot. It's a pile of horse wheat." The guard hits him upside the head for talking. Hamilton curses out, holding the hit spot.

Thomas looks over them before looking at him. He crouches down to his seated place, holding them out. "Where'd you get these from."

Alexander looks up at the guard and keeps quiet. He places a finger over his lips, signaling he couldn't speak. The guard hit him again. "Speak when spoken too."

He hisses, eyes shut in pain. "Fine, asshole. I found them."

"No, you didn't." Thomas places them on the ground. "Tell me where you got them from."

"I did! They were in the place."

"What place?"

"Where we sleep! Where else? Am I suddenly allowed to leave and visit my dear aunt's home to get them?" Thomas eyes him before picking one up. "Tell me what this says."

He took up the copy of Julius Caesar. Alex reads it and quotes, “ _A coward dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant taste of death but once. It seems to me most strange that men should fear, seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come._ ” He said it with no halt, no hesitation. The other slaves that overheard cringed. Hamilton was in for another beating.

Thomas, as much as he loves books, threw it on the ground in fury. An educated slave! Jefferson was damned to have the immigrant! He puts him up by his hair again, making his stand on shaky legs. Betty held Jefferson from doing any more. "He can be useful." She whispers, trying to help the man.

"To HELL with useful."

"Master, just try to see what he can do. Please. He won't stand here much longer if you continue with this." Thomas crosses his arms and thinks hard about his next decision. "Please, sir." She repeats, eyes begging as well. Thomas looks over at Hamilton again.

The fragile person still stood with a strong presence even if his humiliation was only hours before. His brown eyes burning into Thomas.

Brown eyes.

He always fell for brown eyes.

_Damn it._

"Take him inside. I'll have a discussion." The guards do so. "Don't drag him to his death for fuck's sake!" Thomas shouts out and they hold him up more. He sighs frustrated and follows soon after. Betty trailed after but goes back to her station when she enters the home, praying for a good outcome.

\---

Alexander was seated in the office. He looked around in awed at everything. Shiny desk, dozens of papers filled with so much useful information, and how could he possibly forget the books in those long shelves?

His expression flatted when Thomas came in.

"You can read well.." Thomas puts a hand on the chair. "What else can you do?"

"Will I be dragged and yelled again when I answer?"

"No.." Alexander looks back at him. Seeing a slight truth. He sighs, knowing he didn't have a choice.

"I..I know how to write and speak in French, Danish, Latin and some Hebrew.."

Thomas's eyes widen and he blanks in thought though his voice was steady. "And how do you know this?"

"I learned." _No shit he learned. Fucking hell._ Thomas moves away from the slave.

"Can you show proof that you can?"

Alexander scoffs, looking away for a moment. " _De Quelle preuve avez-vous besoin? Inon ad te pertinet? Hvad Skal du gøre for mig?_ " He said it very fluently even if it was three different languages.

What evidence do you need? Would you care? What are you going to do for me? Thomas sighs. Of course, he chooses the only hard-headed educated boy.

"What are you going to do to me?" He repeats, watching the so-called 'Master'.

"Well I should beat you for even having those books," Alexander winces slightly. "But I'm not going to do that."

"..why not?"

"Why do you always question?" He puts a hand on his forehead, he was a massive headache. If Madison heard of this, he would worry too. Hamilton's fate would be death, who knows what he's already planned. Even the sight of him. So, Thomas asks the obvious.

"Have did James find you, pet?"

Alexander gave a look, ignoring the name. "James?"

"The seller, you ass."

"I just came here and I got mixed up at the port...he thought I was trying to escape or some other."

"Where are you supposed to be?"

"Studying. At King's college." Alexander sighs, getting up with any strength he built up. He hated this. "Just let me go. I stay away for any longer and the scholarship in my name won't be mine anymore."

"You're an immigrant. How do you have a scholarship?"

"I worked for it."

Thomas huffs, not believing him."Sure you did."

"I did! I was sent here by my village in the British Isles and they took up a collection to get me here."

"Mmhm." Thomas was wrong to trust Betty if this was Hamilton's way of trying to leave; it wasn't working for him.

"Contact the College if you must..." He slumps back in the chair, realizing it's not going to work even if he had enough to prove to him. His own headache begins and the dizzy feeling came back.

Thomas studies him for a few minutes more, watching the burn fade. He gets up from his desk as if he has finally made a grand decision. And, he did. He can't have -ugh- Alexander talking with the slaves. From what he actually believes and knows..that's too dangerous. "A maid will come in a few minutes. She will give you your new job position. Got it?"

"Oh great, I need to leave and I'm getting a worse position. Fucking exciting!" His headache worsens and his eyes shut.

Jefferson fixes his coat, leaving him there. "Oh and darlin'?"

"..." Alexander turns his head to the side to look at him.

"This is your third transgression. Don't give me a fourth." He leaves him and Alexander felt like vomiting.  
\---

Betty come in a few minutes later, hearing Thomas spat out 'Just any position you can find.' Alexander was given an extra outfit, any of the male staff tunics were too big so he was given some from the females. It was still loose and the ties along the chest were the woman's breast would be was hard for him to tie, it just stopped at a point. He cursed in disgust when he realized why. The trousers were too tight but by that time he was more than mortified. It was now too obvious why the women wore light overcoats or grew their hair long.

Alexander knew he was going to have a hard job but this...this was worse then he could ask for. His new position was to be Jefferson's new personal servant. Betty couldn't find any other and that was the only open one. She spent the day showing Alexander what was suppose to be done and how to do it correctly. At times other servants were allowed to help through the large responsibility rested on him.  
"Tomorrow you start, Alexander..." Betty tells him, fixing the ties on his shirt. She knew how to extend the laces and does it loosely. "Don't upset the Master."  
Alexander scoffs. Betty gave another warning look and he straights up. "I guess I'll try."

"You better, boy. We can't lose another."

"Yes, Betty."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, another update

Alexander was woken by movement around the room. The other servants were getting ready for the day. He sits up slowly, stretching out his arms and being careful his back didn't have any pressure on it. The scaring for the whipping won't ever go away. Hamilton knew that.  
  
Getting up from the bed, which ended up being very comfortable, he began dressing. Tugging more on the laces and tying the pants tighter than needed. He bandaged his cuts the night before and luckily they didn't bleed through.   
  
Betty came into the room minutes later, checking that everyone was ready. She put a firm hand on Alexander's shoulder and whispers. "You're running late. Go before he wakes, child." Alex wraps the waist apron on before leaving them.  
  
Making his way up to the first floor, he runs to the kitchen. Getting the tray with Jefferson's breakfast. Balancing it in one hand he knocks on the door. He waits...Jefferson calls him in.  
  
Thomas didn't agree with his new position. He and Betty exchanged a few words with each other the night before when she told him. At the moment, the immigrant stood at the edge of the bed, holding the breakfast in his hands. Jefferson didn't have a good rest, one bad peep from the slave would set him off.  
  
"Are you going to feed it to me? Hand it over, pet."Alexander bites his bottom lip, placing the tray in his lap.  
  
Thomas took one look before handing it back. "There's food missing."  
  
Alexander scoffs. "So? What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Take it back down."  
  
"You know how many slaves would die for this? Who wouldn't complain?"  
  
"Take it back down." He repeats, a warning in his voice. His stare challenging him.  
  
"Damn rich people!" Alexander mutters, stalking back to the kitchen. He asks them to add more since "One piece of sausage is not enough." They snicker and did so, putting two more pieces of warm bread so he isn't sent down again.  
  
When he makes it back upstairs he lets the tray fall on his lap. "Am I going to eat this dry? Where's my drink?"  
  
Alexander leaves the room again. A few minutes later he came back with a glass cup and a pitcher of orange juice. He pours it and hands it over. He then lets it rest on his nightstand. "Do you need anything else?"  
  
"Nothing for now." Thomas got to eating his breakfast, thinking over what he was supposed to do that day. Though his eyes wondered to Alexander, the immigrant was busy looking at the bookcase the room. Eyes shining with interest as he goes down the shelf though he just stands in place, not knowing what will happen if he moved.  
  
Thomas swallows a piece of the cooked egg, leaning back on the bed frame. "Do you always have to look like a lost pup?"  
  
Alexander eyes the man, straightening. "Do you always have to treat us badly? Do you always need to-"  
  
"And, why are you wearing women's attire?"  
  
"It doesn't fit."  
  
"What doesn't fit."  
  
"The men's clothing."  
  
Thomas barks out a laugh and Hamilton mentally smacks himself for actually saying it.  
  
"You are very petite," Thomas swallows another sip. "which is notable considering you are noisy." He was more than petite. Slender shoulder and arms, long hair that balanced his oval-shaped face, and the eyes. Did he speak of his eyes yet?  
  
"Your stare is creepy and your food is getting cold," Alexander thinks of what he has to do next and not have the man stare at him the whole time. He gives one last look at him before leaving into the closet. It was Wednesday. Alexander thinks it through quickly. The grey suit. He grabs the metal hanger and takes it off the rack. He comes back and Thomas had finished.  
  
Alexander hands it to him while he stands, giving a not so fortunate look at the man. Thomas takes his night clothes and begins changing, Alexander pays attention to other objects in the room, especially when Jefferson slips off his boxer briefs.  
  
"Pet, come help tie this." Alexander looks back for a moment before quickly looking away. He begins to pray in his mind.  
  
"No,"  
  
"Get over here."  
  
"I'm not tieing it!"  
  
"It's your job."  
  
Alexander crosses his arms an huffs, he'd rather die. "I'm waiting."  
  
"Wait then. I'll go get another servant," Before Alexander got to the door, Thomas caught him. Pushing him against the door before he could reach for the knob.  
"Why do you make everything difficult?"  
  
"Because this is too much." Alexander looks up at him, disturbed. Jefferson stares him down till Alexander finally decides to do so. He grabs the laces to his briefs and puts them through the loops before tieing. There were many moments where Alexander's hands slid against his length and he blushes each time, not looking at Jefferson. He knots it before moving away, crossing his arms. Thomas goes back to self-dressing, leaving the slave alone again.  
  
It's not that he doesn't know what's it like to be with a man. He's had weak nights, that's not wrong. But temptation...is cruelest in the ugliest situations. For better or worse, this was only the morning. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry to one of the readers that I responded to saying I would finish in a day or two, totally was not true. Sorry. But, this was longer then the other (I'm pretty sure) I hope it makes up for it.

Alexander continues to serve him for the rest of the day. Getting lunch later on that evening, grabbing his flies when they were too far to reach, getting help from other servants when he didn't know what to do. When he wasn't doing anything, he was forced to stand quietly next to him. His feet ached by the time the evening rolled around but, he did his best to not complain.  
  
"Stop whining," Thomas says in the middle of organizing his files.  
  
"I'm not whining..." Alexander mumbles.  
  
"Ah, my heels hurt, I can't stand for five minutes,"  
  
"I'm not complaining," He repeats, looking over now.  
  
"Uh-huh," Thomas gets up, opening the drawer behind him to put them back in their position.  
  
"I've noticed a pattern with you,"  
  
"Certainly you have,"  
  
"You get dull easily. Mimicking others and seeing their effects is what gives you amusement,"  
  
"Nice, nice, darlin', keep them comin',"  
  
"Wearing flashing clothing like this inside. No surprise there, flaunting must be a requirement to be in this position..." Alexander walks around the room. "And, is whole ball event? Finding a lover or just showing off more? Is there anything else you can do? Is this really what the rich do?" Alex walks around, playing with the strings of the shirt before picking out the copy of the book he had before.  
  
"Put that down," Thomas snaps.  
  
"No," Alex flips through the pages, looking through the story over again. He wonders how much Julius Caesar needed to overpower the Roman Republic. Then he wonders how much he needed to leave this place alive.  
  
"I saw the library on the way up here," He regards.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Why do you have so many if you don't read them?"  
  
"I do,"  
  
"You've read all of them?"  
  
"Most of them,"  
  
"Doesn't seem like it,"  
  
Thomas shrugs, not caring what the slave thought. "Where are you going with this exactly?"  
  
Alexander shrugs as well, leaning against his desk. "All these books for yourself, what's the point?"  
  
"...?" Thomas gave a questioning look. "Again, where are you going with this?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious? Half the slaves here are mere children who are just starting to work of debt that wasn't even theirs to begin with. Who were parted, having not the slightest clue to what is to come? Who are already dehydrated and starving. Couldn't you give them the small benefit of some entertainment?"  
  
Thomas rolled his eyes at Hamilton's pity of a speech. "They wouldn't know what they're reading anyway,"  
  
"Someone could teach them,"  
  
"Not happening,"  
  
Alex scoffs, crossing his arms. "If you had children, you would let them,"  
  
"Yes, but they wouldn't be bastard captives, huh?"  
  
"Bastard captives? Is that really what you call these people who work day and night for you? They are treated like shit and that's the respect they fucking get!"  
  
"Watch yourself, Hamilton, don't make me give you another lesson,"  
  
"No, I will not!" Thomas rolls his eyes, getting irritated, he rubs at his forehead. He just wanted to work. "Let me repeat, Day and night, night and day- and they get this! Dying from sickness while you're all warmed up here."  
  
"Refrain from talking anymore, you're quite bothersome,"  
  
"Not happening, someone has to say something. Anything to get you to reason to a good decision instead of," Alexander easily picks up a letter on his desk. " _trading quite a load some in return for the same amount of profit they would create in my plantation,_ "  
  
"You aren't supposed to be reading these," Thomas gets up and rounds the desk to pulls his hair back to look up at him, Alexander can smell his breath and he fake gags. "Ever brush?" He ridicules to hide his embarrassment.  
  
Jefferson huffs through eyes the immigrant again like in the morning. "Stop tensing like this, what'd you think I'm going to do?"  
  
"I don't know. Never met a southern before," Alexander tries to back up but Jefferson just pulls him closer by his hair.  
  
He presses his hands against the plantation owner. "Stop that!" Alexander begins to flush, not being able to look him in the eyes.  
  
"Hm.." He responds, seeing his reactions. "Never knew son of a whore could have the same outcomes as they would,"  
  
Alexander's head snaps back to him at him. "Excuse you?" And he really pushes him away at that. More aggressively then he meant but enough to let him know that was too much. He didn't even know how Jefferson knew that.  
  
"Oh? Did that offend you?" Thomas grins darkly. "Wonder if an insult to Daddy would do the same-"  
  
"Shut it," He barks.  
  
"The poor immigrant has problems with his family-"  
  
"Shut up,"  
  
"Is that why you traveled here?"  
  
"No!-"  
  
"So they won't know you're from a broken family? From a prostitute and a drunk? Poor, poor, pet. But don't worry, you can't tramp it up here. Neither can your mother-"  
"I SAID SHUT UP!" Alexander slaps him across the face, trying not to have his voice crack.  
  
Thomas pauses for a minute, chuckling as he puts a hand to his jaw. "You can really get feisty. They're always fun like that,"  
  
Still fired up, Alexander spits out, "Fuck you! Fuck this place!"  
  
"Fuck me? Woah there, sweet cheeks, we're not there just yet," Thomas smirks, giving a wink. Alexander gave out a rough sigh, leaving the office this time.  
  
Thomas gave out a gentle sigh, finally being able to work.  


* * *

 Alexander returns around dinner time, having another servant deliver the meal. He was still in the middle of chewing leftover tobacco and after Jefferson's chosen words, he still didn't want to go back. Betsy is the one that brings him back to Thomas, not seeing how much the Master had upset him.  
  
"You have to shower him," They stood outside, just three steps away from the door.  
  
"I'm not his mother!" He hisses.  
  
"Still what you have to do,"  
  
"Betsy, give me something else to do, really,"  
  
She sighs. "Don't you want to live, boy? Just deal with whatever comes. Master Madison is looking if the College really seeks you and the travel can take some time.  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, child. Now go see what he needs before then, alright?"  
  
"Fine, ma'am," He sighs, going inside the office.  
  
Alexander waits by his desk, seeing that his glass is always full or that any fallen food was picked up before it would stain anything. He abandons the place back to the kitchen when Jefferson finishes. And, when he returns, the man was already leading him to the bath in the bedroom he stayed in.  
  
"How does this usually happens?"  
  
"I get in, you wash what I tell you,"  
  
Alexander sighs again and rolls up his sleeves, making sure they stay in place. Thomas undresses and slides into the hot bath, sighing out as his body relaxes. Alexander sees what's there and tries to remember what he needed to do first.  
  
"Balls," He mutters and shrugs as he grabs two small bowls. One has a familiar scent to black tea and one sip from it tells him it is. "I'm waitin'," Thomas calls out and Alexander swallows the tea before he looks back.  
  
"Calm down, I'm just getting it," Alexander pours the unfamiliar liquid onto his hair. Setting the other down as he gets on his knees and begins scrubbing it into his curls though he hits a problem a minute later. "I..I can't reach your front,"  
  
"Figure it out," Alexander's lips twisted up, not having it at the moment. He tugs his hair back and Jefferson growls at that. "I didn't mean that,"  
  
"What do I do then?"  
  
"Get in...Don't give that look, it's not unusual."  
  
"I'll get wet,"  
  
"Is that really your concern?" Alexander grits his teeth, letting his hair go and moving to get in. Though he doesn't want to ruin his pants nor shirt. He sighs getting out and stripping them off though he keeps his boxers on. Alex knew he had more of those so he wasn't worried. Getting back in, he continues to wash Jefferson's hair. When it was soapy enough, he then moves to get the black tea bowl, pouring it and scrubbing again. Using the same bowl, later on, he cups water from the tub and pours it over to water this hair off completely.  
  
His chest, arms, waist, and legs were soaked by then and he still had to wash the man's body. Alexander grabs the rag, making sure it was soapy before leaning against him to cleanse his chest and shoulders, slowly building up to wash off his neck and parts of his jaw. Angle his face sideways with his right hand to wash the back of his neck and doing the same to his left side. When he lets Thomas look straight again, he's met with darker eyes but looks away to not fully feel the intensity of it. He dips the rag again and moves to wash his chest again, unsure how to go lower without getting flustered but knows he has to and moves away from his lap.

Alexander moves back enough to wash the man's lower legs, seeing how he tenses them when Hamilton's washing gets closer and closer to his thighs. It doesn't take a genius to see how hard the Master was and it doesn't take Alexander long to look up at him, fully red. Thomas just looks down at him, straight face as before. "Go fetch a towel, Alexander," Jefferson tells to him, reaching over to cup the side of his face, giving it a pat.  
  
He stills for a second before gulping and getting out to get one, when he returns Thomas is out and flashing what Alexander has done to him. He hands it to him and couldn't help but stare. Thomas ties the it around his waist, bulge showing still and walks out. "Quite the whore," He mutters, leaving to change without his help.

What did he just witness? What did he just _do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How you enjoyed and comment how I did!


	7. Chapter 7

"He's a rascal!" Alexander snarls, taking off the rest his clothing to change. "Calling me a whore while he's the harden one! I only did what I was told to do. Frustrating, embarrassing, bet the damn bastard gets off on that," Lauren watches as he continues to rage.  
  
When he finishes, John answers. "That's how it is, Alexander, you know this. And, besides, Thomas is better than any others," Lauren was another slave that Alexander had befriended on the second day here. Just from the scars on his arms and slightly exposed back, he could tell the man had gone through a few things with his other owners.   
"And why's that?" He replies, looking back when he finishes changing.   
  
"Haven't you heard about them doing anything to men? Mister Maxwell had many tales about him and a few male slaves months back,"  
  
"Only talks, truly...Jefferson doesn't have any rumors?"  
  
"All of them do, Alex. None of them are innocent,"  
  
He scoffs. "Don't need to tell me twice,"  
  
"I know, I know," John pats his back and gets up when other servants start coming in. "Just don't think too much about it, alright?"  
  
"Alright, I won't," He scoffs, leaning back on the bed frame. "Night John,"  
  
"Night, Alexander," Lauren ruffles his hair before leaving.   
  
He sighs, staying low till all the others called it a night, afterward he gets up and leaves the room quietly. He walks up to the main level, walking slowly to the second before slipping into the library. Alexander goes into the Grand Main hall of it, going to the walls filled with books. He grabs one off the shelf, one he was continuing from the day before and couldn't get to during the daytime. Making sure his page was still marked, he stands, continuing from there.   
  
"Alexander, that better not be you," He freezes, shutting the book. "You better get over here," Alex quickly puts it back, going to leave. He didn't think Thomas would still but up. Fuck.   
  
"Get.Over.Here." Jefferson looks up at him, taking off his glasses as he stands. "I said not to come here and here you are...turn around,"  
Alex sighs and does so.   
  
"So?"  
  
"...Yes, I came..."  
  
"Why? I said not to,"  
  
"...Because I like to read,"  
  
"A fool loves reading but do they understand it?"  
  
Alex exhales. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"Go grab that book," Alex gave a confused look but does so. He brings it back.   
  
"Sit over there," He points to the chair across from him. Alex sits, still unsure. They pass looks to each other before Jefferson leans back, putting his own glasses on, and continues his own reading. "Read, fool, I'm not going to be here all night,"   
  
"..This isn't a trick? You aren't going to punish me?"  
  
He sighs. "Let's just say this is... a justification for earlier. Betsy tells me you come here,"   
  
Alex opens the book. "How does she know that? I was quiet.."  
  
"She's...all knowing," He tricks, writing inside the book as he fiddles with the temples of his glasses. Hamilton stares for a moment more before continuing his reading, now being able to read much more clearing with the fireplace next to them.   
  
The quiet between them wasn't tense, surprisingly. Just Thomas's writing before he finally shuts the book and gets up. He sets it on the lamp stand, going over to take Alexander's. Bookmarking it, he sets it on top. "Get to bed, you still have to work tomorrow,"  
  
Alex stands too. "Can I come tomorrow?"  
  
He hums. "Depends,"  
  
"On?"  
"If you give attitude, no. Don't cause me any problems tomorrow and we'll see," He ruffles his hair before leaving.   
  
Alexander runs a hand through his hair. "..We'll see,"


	8. Chapter 8

Friday morning was bustling, servers moving swiftly from place to place. Up and down the stairs, tensing on anything that was done. Betty had Alexander adds from being a personal servant and helping out around the Monticello. Slaves outside were cleaning up around the plantation but still being worked hard. Cleaning tablecloths, glasses, and plates. Learn where everything needs to be in the ballroom.  
  
But, when the chance came he hid and took a small break in the halls, catching his breath before he had to do something else. His back kept burning the whole time, he wanted to clean them up before continuing to do anything else. He stretches his aching neck and tries to go to the aiding room, wanting to see if anyone was there to help.  
"Hamilton, get back here and arrange the tables," One watchdog orders, going over to him before he can go elsewhere.  
  
Alexander sighs, holding onto the wall next to him. "Please, I just need to change these-"  
  
He grabs his arm and drags him to the room but Alexander keeps fighting back. "It won't take long- really it won't-" He smacks him upside the head and takes him inside, making him carry around the tables to fit with the room and decor.  
  
They stop after a while, letting them have a minute break before having to move around more. The guard goes back to watch around the halls and Alexander looks back, hoping they would cover for him so he can leave.  
  
But they don't, they don't want him or themselves to get in trouble. So they make him stay and endure more of the pain his back was causing him.  


* * *

  
The ball started around seven though guest begins to arrive much earlier than that. Alexander was now occupied with assisting Thomas dress for the evening. It was that fancy magenta suit and overcoat that Alex still thinks it makes him look like a big baby in an oversize jacket.  
  
Going off when he finishes, he's sent back to the kitchen was Betsy was giving orders. She hands him a tray, giving a 5-second explanation of what he needed to do before sending him out with them, going to find more servants that were free and able to do it also.  
  
He walked around a while during it, when he was finally able to, mostly concentrating on carrying the platter on one hand and still standing very firm and balanced at the same time. He approaches groups when seeing that their glasses were almost empty or half full. Taking them or serving them more. He went in and out of the ballroom and by the third time he came back, his scarred back was aching badly and he felt very faint, barely able to even ask if they wanted another.  
But something surges through Alexander and he stops in place, almost dropping the pan as he looks directly at someone he knew too well. "F-father?" The first words he said that whole night. The group of spokesmen stopped, looking over at him.  
  
"Alexander?" George Washington mutters in confusion. He walks forward as his colleagues move out of his way. "What are you doing here, Son?" He hadn't expected his boy to be here. And as a servant? Alexander was about to say more but he's cut off when he can't stand to even stand there under the pressure of, well, everything. He faints, the tray crashing but his father catches him, calling for someone to help them.  
  
Jefferson went cold, eyes widening in shock. He's regretting everything he's just done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short right? Well, there is always a peace moment before the loud, reckless storm.
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! There are some rather important notes at the end for the scheduling of the next few chapters. Check them out!

The carriage ride to the hospital was long and Washington holds onto his son, caring for him as much as he could. Jefferson sat across from them. He went with them since he was more familiar to the area and people there. With his help, they would arrive faster.   
  
And when they do, Washington nearly ripped his hand away when Jefferson asks if he wanted help. The father carries the unconscious Alexander, by himself, to the hospital. Thomas trails behind. With Washington's clear presence as a politician, he was easily granted a separate room from the others.  
  
The fragile boy was laid down. A sound finally escaped him. The hurting groan leading them to know that they need to rest him on his front. A nurse was told to lead them to the waiting room while the doctor and helpers try to relive him to a woken state.  
  
She informed Washington and Jefferson they will tell them when Alexander was awake and willing to speak with them. George thanked her immensely and sat back, easing out a breath that was difficult to even breathe in.  
  
"Sir..." Thomas sighed out too, looking over at him.  
  
"Not right now."  
  
"I just...I didn't know he was your son, sir. I mean- his last name even. Nothing held any indication he was yours and never even sought out to tell me,"  
  
"That doesn't matter. I just need to remember all the lies about the treatment of your slaves." Jefferson cringed. He didn't treat them badly...Alexander justed- he did something to him to get him like that. "This really was the only time I ever had this ordered,"  
  
"And it just so happened to be Alexander,"  
  
"His last name is Hamilton. Not Washington. I didn't know, sir."  
  
"Watch your tone." He outs Jefferson back in his place. "I let him choose whichever last name he wanted. I was fine that he chose his mothers. I saw that the only reason he did it was that he wanted to prove that my status wouldn't affect his true worth in King's College...I do believe he would've informed you he wasn't a slave,"  
  
"..yes.."  
  
"That he was traveling across the waters to the College?"  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"And I'd be more then just astonished if he didn't show any forms of his intelligence when he was there,"  
  
"He did but-"  
  
"I'm not done. With all of this, you had no idea that there was a chance he wasn't a slave. Wasn't meant to be there. Wasn't meant to work in fields or as I saw a servant. He's a boy, leaving home to go to college and continue what he had already built for himself,"

  
"Sir, listen, at the time I thought all he wanted to do was to escape. That what they all try to do and you having your own plantation would know that they will try and do anything to escape. I thought Alexander was doing the same thing. I couldn't let that happen.  
  
If I had reasonable evidence that he wasn't meant to be there I would have dealt with it immediately."  
  
"With everything I just said, none of it was reasonable evidence?"  
  
"Madison was in the middle of figuring if he actually went to that college. He was supposed to be back tomorrow to tell me."  
  
Washington didn't want to hear any excuses. He didn't want to hear him anymore. And when finally Jefferson asks for forgiveness one last time. He breaks.  
"You wouldn't need to apologize if you used that brain of yours, Jefferson! All you had to do was look a little closer to it! And now, my boy is in the hospital for your stupidity!" The nurse was going to them but was taken back at these two. She clears her throat and says if they could follow her to the room.  
  
But before he can go see his son, George says in finality. "And always remember that this, Jefferson, is the last blunder to cutting all deals with your plantation. Don't expect any more help, income, or deals with the rest of us." Washington goes to the nurse, apologizing to the young girl before going to the room that held his boy. Jefferson falls back to the chair, head dropping to his hand as he exhales miserably.  
  
The doctor was fixing the new bandages on him, much more stable and clean than the ones before. Speaking with Washington for a bit about the next few days of rest while the nurse helped Alexander to a sitting position. Giving him ether and chloroform as his painkiller. The doctor handed the rest of the bottle to George, telling him that every couple of hours Alexander would need to take them. Nodding in understanding, the two leaving them alone.  
  
George quietly moves and brings a wooden chair to the edge of the bed there. Alexander's eyes shine on him, waiting to see what his father would do. If he didn't say anything, Alex would.  
  
Washington was already filled with guilt. Letting his only son leave home without supervision. Without knowing fully if he was going to be safe. He was an absolute insensible father for letting this happen.  
  
Alexander notices the sudden change in his features, turning from hidden guilt to almost blankness. "It's okay, Papa," He takes his father's hand, giving a squeeze to it.  
"I should of gone with you,"  
  
"You had business to attend to. You coming with me wouldn't have benefited your workload,"  
  
Washington shakes his head, sighing out. "What happened? What did Jefferson make you do?"  
  
Alexander shrugs, easing his shoulder back a bit. He mumbles out a few big events, mostly it being his own stubbornness that got him in all of the situations. Washington almost immediately shuts down any indication that it was his fault. He knows his boy has too much pride at times but in this situation, it didn't matter.  
  
"Can I see him?" Alexander asks, looking over at him.  
  
Washington looks at him, flabbergasted. "Why would you want to see him, Son?"  
  
He shrugs, just feeling like it. "I want to ask something,"  
  
"I'm not letting him near you again."

  
"Oh papa, just let me see him. Not like he can do much more damage then what was done," Washington sighs, shaking his head in disagreement but gets up.  
  
"I'll tell him to come. But, just call for me if anything happens,"  
  
"I will,"  
  
He leaves Alexander hesitantly and goes to Thomas. Informing him that Alex wanted to see him. Jefferson nods, getting up and going to the room. Washington stops him for a moment, arm gripping his forearm. "Don't do or say anything upsetting to him. There will be worse of an outcome if he becomes more hurt," Jefferson swallows and nods. George lets go of him and sit down.  
  
Jefferson walks in, seeing as Alexander watches him as he sits. It was silent between the two. Just staring and fidgeting.  
  
"Still that annoying immigrant?" Alexander asks, turning fully to face him.  
  
Thomas sighs, leaning back. "You know the answer to that."  
  
Alex doesn't push further than that. "I'm going to convince George to not do that."  
  
"...Why?"  
  
"Because you'll go bankrupt and the slaves will be sold to other people that won't treat them well,"  
  
Thomas was taken back by that. "You aren't joking?" He shakes his head, really meaning it.  
  
"I care about them. I really do. Even if I didn't know them for long."  
  
Thomas was about say more before there was a furious knock to the door. Alexander sits up more when Madison enters the room. "Thomas, you really need to look at his," He chirps, out of breath. Jefferson turns to him and gets up.  
  
Madison shoves the papers into his hands, going to get Washington. Jefferson schisms through it before reading out loud in confusion.  
Alexander chokes, grabbing the papers from him. Reading for himself, he looks up at Thomas, both not truly understanding. Washington and Madison come back in.  
  
"Papa, what is this? When were you going to tell me I was going to be married! And to this man?!"  
  
Washington turns pale, looking over at them. "This was never meant to happen..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Christmas arriving and New Year also, I won't be able to post as many chapters as I would like do. Though regardless of that there will be a Christmas Special (outside of the storyline so far) And another continued chapter after that.  
> When these two holidays pasted I'll continue regularly scheduled updates. Hope you all understand!
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day and tell me if you guys enjoy the chapters! Happy Holidays!


	10. It's a Christmas Special yall!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS 2K WORDS
> 
> I MADE IT ON THE 21st AND FINISHED ON THE 24th AT NIGHT
> 
> LOVE IT PLEASE

The halls, for once it seems, filled with color. More than just the plain wooden floors and browning brick walls. Alexander and Thomas spent the day decorating Monticello. Alex had forced Jefferson to give the slaves the day off. It was Christmas time and no one deserves to work on that day. Especially people who have done more than just merit it.

The decorations were put away in the basement but with a few helpers and with time, Alexander has everything he needed. Pine trees were set up in different room, basically begging to be decorated. Alex let families come in the house, which was the first for a majority of them, and have them decorate the trees in which every way they wanted. He chatted with them, got to know them more, and had them stay a bit longer to eat for a bit.

Thomas was against all of it. Not so kind to them as Alexander was. Yes, he doesn't whip them, doesn't mistreat them like other owners but this- inviting them into his home. They weren't family, they weren't related in any way and Thomas should make Alexander see that but he can't seem to find a way to. His lover just seemed to erase anything he didn't agree with, even if this was his home.

When another family left, Alexander grabs ornaments to decorate another tree. But Thomas stops him before he can continue to the room.

"You bring another one of those families in here, I swear-"

"Piss off, I'll do what I please." Thomas grabs the box and shoves him to the nearest wall, cupping his chin as he kisses him fiercely.

"Not even with this? Think about how we can spend the evening instead.." He continues to kiss him soundly, hiking him up. Alexander moans against him, wrapping his arms around his neck. When the doorbell rang, stopping Thomas for a second to realize what was happening, Alexander hopped down and grabbed the box, putting it in the room before going to the door.

Alex greets them with a smile and lets them in. He happily spoke to the family in their native tongue, which was the same as the one he grew up with. Leading them to the room, he grabbed a tray of food and brings it with him as he explained to them what they would do. He lets the little ones have the tray, knowing to bring more later. When they start decorating, Alex leaves and lets them do as they please. He goes back to Thomas.

"Let's go outside, the workers are decorating the trees outside," Alexander intwines their fingers. He makes Thomas follow him to the square there. Finally, after a long while, the slaves looked happy and relaxed. Alexander was holding a whole holiday dinner with everyone. Only asking them to dress their best when the time comes. Children played, adults chatted, and teens got together as well.

Thomas stood by the house, not wanting to go anywhere near them. It wasn't that he was disgusted or anything, he just wanted them to work. That's the whole point of them being here. And when he told this to Alexander, the immigrant nearly slapped him right in front of everyone there.

"You better watch yourself, Thomas Jefferson, don't doubt what I will do to you if you continue to act like this," Alexander's voice stood steel hard.

"This is my plantation, Hamilton-"

"And if you continue, don't expect any Christmas presents," Alexander 'fondly' fixes his suit, tightening his tie. He whispers the next part. "Especially when it turns to night,"

Thomas nods quickly, getting it. "I'll be better,"

Alex scoffs. "Pervert." He fixes his hair before going to the slaves. Leaving Jefferson there to make his own, next choice. Thomas sighs, crossing his arms.

He chatted with the adults, brightly enjoying the conversation. They asked a lot about the dinner, wondering a few things they didn't know of. Alexander answered each sincerely.

"Sorry Master, if this is asking too much, but will the children be able to earn any presents this Christmas?" A mother asks, a bit of fear in her eyes in case this question backfired.

Alex assured her quickly. "Call me Alexander, please. It's fine, Maybelle, the children will be able to open gifts tonight. I can promise that."

She nods, grateful. They continued to speak till the children grew tired of playing and wanted to be with their mothers and fathers. Alexander leaves them to be together and goes to find Thomas.

He found his darling playing with other children. In the dirt, they were in the middle of tic tac toe, and Thomas was losing. Alexander giggles, going over to them. He sits on the sidelines, chanting for the children to win. Jefferson purposely let them win, saying a, "Damn!" when they add a tally to the boys' name. Thomas didn't have any tallies under his name. Thomas hands the stubby stick to the boy's father and gets up, dusting off his pants as he goes to Alexander.

Alexander smiles to him, they walk back slowly to the home. Thomas wraps his arm around his waist and Alex leans against him. "That was surprising. Never expected you to be good with kids,"

Thomas chuckles. His thoughts differing from what he said to Alexander before, "I'm better with kids than adults,"

When they walk in, Alex kisses him. "Seems so, dear. Keep this up and I might reward you earlier." He purrs.

Thomas grins, bitting down lightly on Alexander's bottom lip, licking them wet, "Oh, darlin', don't try to make me wait. You won't last with any teasing," Alexander breaths out, trying to gain back any restraint.

"Stop testing me. There is still so much to do,"

"Half an hour of your time won't affect today," Thomas nips down his neck, sucking a spot.

"T-Thomas.." Alexander grips his suit, leaning his head back on the door. He exhales as the man continues.

"Master Washington, the family finished the tree in the second living room," Betsy interrupts them, having seen them like this many times to not be fazed. Thomas freezes, just needing to hear the name 'Washington' to stop. He pulls away, leaving a dazed Alexander fussing for more. She continues. "The chiefs are almost done with dinner. Do you want the tables set up now or later?"

Alexander gains his senses back and clears his throat. He needs to control himself. Thomas was the damn devil. "Better if we do it now so the children can open their presents at a reasonable time and not stay up playing,"

She agrees, going out to begin setting them up with others. Alexander turns back to Thomas, steaming at him for convincing him so easily. Thomas just grins, crossing his arms again.

"Help me carry the presents outside, we need to put them under the tree," Alexander leaves to grab the presents. Thomas follows. They carried as much as they could and before they knew it, they had all of them outside. Alexander had spent the weeks before wrapping presents for all the children. Which was sad. So many children here...but at least he could convince his husband enough to do all this.

The children were already gathering, growing excited and already trying to find ones with their name. Alexander helps set up the tables and bring the food out. By the time the last meals were taken out, everyone had sat down. Alexander and Thomas sat at the head of the table.

Thomas spoke before Alexander could. "I hope everyone has had a pleasant day so far," Alexander looks over, watching him closely. "And we both wish you enjoy this dinner...especially since it doesn't happen too often...would anyone like to say grace?"

A man towards the middle raises his hand, Thomas nods to him. "Just be a bit loud for everyone to hear and anyone who doesn't want to don't have to. Just rest and bow your heads,"

The man says the eating prayer, loud but slightly nervous. He stumbles on his words once but didn't after. After sitting and a majority do the sign of the cross, they begin to serve and eat. Alexander took as little as he could without causing too many looks. He had food in the Monticello, he didn't need to take more then he needed to. Thomas though, took as much as he liked, not understanding why Alex didn't. The food was much more enjoyable than on any other day.

And suddenly, Alexander stomps on his foot underneath the table. He eyes a boy just a few seats from them, having a not so large amount as the others. "You get nutritious food every day and they don't," Alexander mutters furiously, almost spitting out in French. "Imagine working all day with no break. Out in the cold and hot...this is the only day in the year they get to rest. Give the sweet boy some more food or else I will."

Thomas nods and gets up taking his plate with him. He goes over to the boy's seat and nudges him from behind. "Want some more?" Jefferson asks, holding the plate by his side.

The boy grew nervous but takes the chance and nods. Thomas slides off the large piece of ham from his plate. "Thank you, Master," The boy bows his head.

Jefferson stood in silence for a second. Reaching over to pat under his jaw, he remarks, "Keep your chin up, boy," He smiles at him, nodding again and he continues to eat happily. His father giving him a proud pat on the back.

When Jefferson comes back to his seat, Alex gave him a small side smile. Just enough to tell him he did well. And lord all mightly, to him it felt like much more than just a pat on the back.

When everyone finishes and they end with the end eating prayer, Alexander stands and says first. "All the children are free to go and unwrap their presents! First there gets an extra toy!" The kids knock their chairs back, scrambling to be the first. The adults watch Alex and Thomas before chuckling at their children. Alexander picks up the big present under the table, going over to the children.

"Who was first?" He calls out, going over to them. The box ringing and the objects inside raddling.

The smallest girl raises her hand, having been at the end of the table and able to duck under the larger boys and girls. Alexander places the box down and goes on one knee. "What's your name?" Alex asks softly and sweetly.

The girl grew shy, hiding behind her hair. "Faith," She spoke quietly.

Alexander reaches and moves her hair out of the way. "Don't hide, sweetheart..want to see your second present?"

She thinks before nodding. Alexander reaches and opens the box. Other children gather. He hands her a rag doll, one with brown string hair and button back eyes. A blue dress and sown shoes. The ragdoll also held bells in her bowties. She gasps at the doll, hugging Alexander tightly before running off to show her mother.

"Is there a prize for second place?" A boy asks, growing a bit whiney. Alexander chuckles, standing.

"Yes.."

The boy raced for the box, picking out a kite. "Mama! Look!" He waves it around like a medal. Thanking him, he plays with the other boys. Moving out to the fields.

Alexander closes the empty box and goes back to Thomas, growing weary as the night continues. Clasping his hands together he begins, "Dessert, coffee and tea, and candy will be given out shortly. Though it had been a long day and I hope, none of you would be upset if Thomas and I retire early tonight,"

They all were fine with that, waving them off to go sleep if they want. Alexander thanks them and goes back with Thomas. Jefferson, who had been on the sidelines for a while, wrapped an arm around his waist and pulls him close. Kissing his cheek, he walks him inside.

"That a Merry Christmas you wanted?" He asks Alexander, shutting the door behind them.

"Yep!" Alexander kisses him. He unties his boots, leaving them by the door. He then undoes his overcoat. "Did you enjoy it?"

Thomas sighs, taking off his own. "Honestly...in a certain way. It was new, not exactly what I was aiming for but,"

Alexander looks over at him, giving a blank look. Wanting to hear how he felt. "If you loved it, Darlin', then I do too," He kisses his husband smoothly. "Merry Christmas, Alexander,"

He laughs sound like bells. Pulling back, he looks him in the eyes. "Merry Christmas, Thomas,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said before the next chapter will be continuing the storyline. This was just something I wanted to do for fun.
> 
> Hope you guys are having a happy Christmas/whatever you do or don't celebrate!


	11. Chapter 11

"Speak! What's this wedding that's to happen?" Alexander taking difficult breaths. He doesn't understand this new situation, it really was freighting him.

Washington looks over at Thomas. "Are you still in contact with your father?"

Jefferson gave a confused look before nodding his head. "But my father left four months ago,"

Washington sighs even more. "I didn't expect this to happen but...your father and I made a deal. He thought you wouldn't have gone far in your career so we bet if you could run the plantation swiftly and keep your position in Congress then I was to gain a few...but if you couldn't then being married to someone with power would help and I bet with Alexander,"

"But that doesn't make sense, my position and the plantation was- is doing well!"

Madison shakes his head. "We didn't pass the bill and there are more Federalist when your father was living here, Thomas,"

"Well, this isn't happening. Everything is going well and none of us want this,"

"I have a feeling he won't agree with that," Washington encountered.

"Your father has always been strict with deals Thomas," Madison also defended.

"Alexander?" Washington cuts in, going over to his son. Thomas and James still talk on it though they spared a glance at them. Alexander was holding himself, the papers clenched in his hands. "Alexander, please, say something,"

"You already broke your promise. I'll have to be stuck with him. I've met his father and you hate him. Why would you make that bet? Now, I'll just be known as this fucker's husband,"

"Don't use that language-"

"I'll say whatever! It's not you who has to be married!" Alexander rips up the papers and throwing it. It was childish but got the point though. "...you have land and enough slaves as it is, why would you bet for more?"

Washington shakes his head, he looks back at the two. "How did you find this out Madison? I thought Jefferson said you were only going to the College,"

Madison nods. "I did, sir. When I talked with the staff they only told of Alexander's resignation there by Peter Jefferson a day ago and when I asked for his reason they answered 'You can't be a student if you're occupied with marriage..',"

"He doesn't have any connections to us, he can't just waltz in and declare this," Alexander fought.

"Well, the forms did show Peter Jefferson as the one who was loaning in for Alexander's school fees and expenses,"

Alexander deadpanned. "Papa!"

"I never put him down! Alexander trust me on that,"

"His name magically appeared then," Jefferson objected as well.

Washington slipped on his words. "I don't have any reason to put him on there. I don't understand why he is there. Do you have the papers, Madison?"

He nods, handing them over. "The name is right here but..it isn't your handwriting sir,"

Washington hands them over to Thomas. "Is this your fathers?"

Jefferson inspects it carefully, hoping that this was all a mistake, that he didn't need to foster the immigrant for any more time. Especially under the title of marriage. If his father didn't want him to end up a disgrace, he had a funny way of expressing this. "...Yes, it's his," He gives it back to Washington, looking back at Alexander.

George shakes his head, folding the paper. "Madison, begin drafting a letter to Mr. Jefferson. Tell him he is needed immediately in Virginia," Madison agrees, leaving the room to begin it.

Alexander tries to grab for his medication, not wanting to deal with this. Washington informs him that he had it. "We'll leave you to rest. This pressure didn't need to be added to your current state of mind,"

"Thank you for acting like the doctor more than my father," Alexander rolls his eyes. "Wanna add about my sleeping habits too? You can thank him for that anyway,"

Washington sighs, leading Jefferson out of the room. Alexander rests on his front, dozing off in a matter of seconds. "We'll get this resolved soon," He reassures Thomas and himself. "And when we do, we never speak of it again,"

"Speak of what?"

Washington nods. "Exactly."  
  



	12. Chapter 12

After the fifth day of being in the infirmary, Alexander was released. It wasn't because of his healing, it was because Washington had had him released. They had gotten a response back of Peter coming to Virginia and quickly too. His letter was nothing that they had expected. Instead of writing of any remorse, he seemed more than glad about Washington's uncovering about it. He also sent word explaining he would be there soon and if not by the end of the week then on the Lords' resting day.

Jefferson hand would curl in a fist when reading his father's response. He knew his father was very confined and deliberate so doing something like this would ruin Thomas, but he's sure his father already knows. So what was the point?

Washington and Alexander stayed with Jefferson in the Monticello, having no other place to stay. They could go to an inn but with Washington's position in the modern cabinet, it wouldn't be the smartest decision. In the summer home, Washington made it crucial that the two never passed each other. The only exception was during breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner. The only four times a day they were near each other. Each maid and servant was sworn to not reveal anything to any slaves outside or else they would be punished.

Alexander spent a lot of time with the kitchen staff and helping out the maids like he uses to do. Washington makes sure he was learning with the library that Thomas had, searching through the room for most of the day to get him started on what he needed to know for the beginning semester of College. Alexander listened, wrote, explained, debated, and many times had to take more breaks then he wanted.

Once even Thomas interrupted a lesson to drop something off to the two though Washington stood a bit too firm.

"I just wanted to-"

"It's fine Mr. Jefferson, we don't need any assistance."

"I feel like this could help Alexander-,"

"I already said we don't need your aid,"

Jefferson gave a look to the older man and then looks over at Alexander. "I'm just trying to support his studies a bit more then what you can do at the moment," Thomas hands him the books he had studied with during his College years. He leaves after that, not wanting to cause any more tension in the many. It wouldn't know what else Washington would do to him if he stayed for longer.

Night fell much later and Washington leaves Alexander to ready for bed while he goes to sleep himself. Alexander wishes his father goodnight and closes his door to change out of the garments he wore. He slips on a lighter pair and goes to clean himself up for the night. He brushes and covers his hair in a few wet hand waves to cool his scalp during the night.

Drying his hands, he leaves the bowl and brush and leaves the room. He makes sure he's quiet when passing his father's room, holding in his breath for a moment before continuing quickly.

He makes it upstairs and into the hall that held Thomas's room. He knocks a few times before stepping back. He thinks about it for a second before Thomas opens.

The man in question looks at him in confusion. His eyesight dips to Alexander's bedded clothing. Suddenly in quick thinking, he asks, "Is this a setup?" And proceeds to look for Washington to be hiding in the shadows of the hall.

Alexander lets a laugh escape, looking up at him amused. "It's not a setup, I just wanted to thank you,"

"For what?" He asks, suspicious.

"For the books that you dropped off during my lesson," Alex continues, "I feel like it really helped in what father was trying to teach me,"

"Oh...you're welcome then," Thomas grabs for the doorknob and goes to close the door. "It would be good for you to leave now,"

"I- Thomas wait," He holds onto the door too, wanting to say more. "I'm sorry if George is acting like this...I mean, you deserve it, I am hurting," Jefferson sighs, not understanding why he was still talking. "but, understanding that whatever they betted on, we both don't agree with it, right?"

Thomas looks at the younger man, giving him a look of apology. "...I sure hope we don't,"

"What do you mean?"

"I meant, I'm sure we both don't agree with it. You still have a whole career to go through," He talks down to him.

"Oh yes old man, and you still have to find yourself a wife,"

"Watch yourself, Alexander," Thomas scoffs.

"Will do, Thomas," He smirks, leaving him.   
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

Thomas's father arrived on Friday, stepping out of the cart with such charm and properness in every step, it was impossible to see why anyone would deny him. But Washington wasn't about to fall into his category, his son and heir deserved more than whatever this man was trying to hold him to.  
Thomas greeted his father, nervous in such a way that only a son would be in need to please his father. And this was that time.

Alexander found it amusing that Thomas would walk around in such shiny and expensive clothing and now he wore a simple dulled white lined pullover shirt and a richly colored blue over it. Simple trousers with suspenders and a cravat. If Alex saw him any other day, not knowing the situation, he would think the man was playing dress up. He looked too cleaned up. Alex secretly liked it.

Washington was in the midst of Alexander's lesson when the carriage pulled up. A maid had come and informed him about Mr. Jefferson's arrival. Washington thanked her and stopped the lesson to go see the man. He had quite a lot to say after the past few days. He sent Alexander to go loaf for the next few hours while he tied the library and meet the man.

"Thomas, my son, great to see you once again," His father says, grinning with all teeth as he shook his son's hand. Thomas gave a smile back but not like the one his father had. It was a real one.

"Father, it's nice to see you as well," He greets back. Servants were already busy unloading his things. Thomas leads his father inside, ignoring the way the man was already inspecting the land that was in his eyesight.

"How have the crops been this year? I hear it's better than last year but not by much,"

Thomas winces slightly. "Well, there was a nasty winter last year and its effects lead into this year. Dry soil..."

"Sounds like an excuse son, you know I pity a fool with excuses,"

"Right."

When they went in his father claimed the room he use to stay in but just a few moments in, he's wholly confused. "What's this boy doing in here?"

Alexander gave a weird look to the man. Almost disgusted. He was disgusted. Thomas showed up a few moments later. "Alexander was staying here before," He offered. "This is Washington's son remember?"

His father thought for a moment before looking at Alexander. "Stand taller boy, you look almost cripple like that,"

"Excuse you," Alexander snaps, eyeing the fellow. "You take a day's whipping and then speak. But most men like you just order them, isn't that right?"

"Watch your tone, lad. Learn how to speak to your elders,"

"If you speak of respect, I expect the same from you,"

Peter sighs, shaking his head as if to treat Alex like a little child. Alexander scoffs, placing his hands on hips so to not cross them. He stands straighter, jut to stretch it for a moment. "I'll gather my things here. Since his majesty is so keen on being in this room exactly,"

Alexander goes to grab the books, pens, inks, and notebooks he had with him. He really just had one pair of clothing so far so it didn't matter. "Whats the other unreserved room, Thomas?" Alex asks, ignoring Peter.

"Upstairs, across from mine," Alexander nods and starts to leave.

"Ah," Peter stops him, looking at the two. "Why aren't you sharing a room?"

Alexander gave a death glare. "Because that marriage proposition is ridiculous. If you want a marriage between Thomas and someone chose a woman next time. I will not be shamed and humiliated for the rest of my life because of a petty bet. Good day sir!" He leaves, furious.

Peter sighs again. "The lack of honor in the new generation is very revolting. Have the slaves clean up the room, I will not stay in a pig pen." He leaves and Thomas follows him after ordering a few maids very demandingly to go clean. He reminds himself to apologize when his father leaves.

As they made their way down, Peter made a suggestion to go see how everyone was working. Thomas agrees and starts to lead him. On their way out they are met with Washington would seem to have the same face on as Alexander. Though Thomas knew he wouldn't have a tantrum.

"Washington! Knew you were around here. Why don't you join us? We were about to go around the fields to see the progress for today," Just another way to brag to Washington even if they were failing in good income.

"I'll have to excuse myself from this invitation but thank you for keeping me in mind. I would prefer we discuss what the current situation is. And of course, have every participate with us."

Peter's grin faltered slightly. "I still don't see the point. We made an agreement. Should we be keeping to our promises, Washington?"

"I suppose we should but, would you really have your son humiliated like this Peter?"

"If this is what it takes to teach him a lesson then I would think so. Hell, even now he hasn't questioned my authority. Just shows how much he's learned already.

We'll speak during dinner about this. Let the bride hear what's happening if you really would want him to." Peter leaves the Monticello, leaving for the fields.

Thomas sighs, looking at Washington. "I can't change his mind."

"I know," Washington looks back to the rooms. "Let's just make sure those two are separated. They didn't sound very happy near each other."

Thomas agrees. "I'll make sure-"

"Thomas! Hurry up, boy!" His father snaps, continuing to walk.

He halts looking outside. "We'll make sure," He responds quickly before going.

Thomas would never find the will to stand up to his father. No matter what happened.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is well appreciated!


End file.
